


It's Not Ogre Yet (Voltron-Shrek Crossover)

by fernwehxox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), BoyxBoy, Brotp, Galra Keith (Voltron), Meme, Multi, Parody, Shrek - Freeform, Voltron, klance, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 16:13:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10251170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fernwehxox/pseuds/fernwehxox
Summary: Lance thought love was only true in fairy tales, meant for someone else but not for him.  Yep, love was out to get him - at least, that's the way it seemed.  Disappointment (and resentment for the galra empire) haunted all his dreams, but that was before he embarked on the quest of a lifetime with his new friend, Hunk, to rescue the missing prince, guarded in a tower by a fearsome fire breathing dragon, and get his swamp back.Just like onions, alteans have layers; after the treatment he and his people received at the hands of the hands of Lord Pidgequaad, will Lance be able to peel back enough of his to open up to his new friends?





	

"Once upon a time there was a lovely princess.”  
“Alright, nice!  Always good to have an awesome leading lady in the picture.”  


“Ahem.  But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort which could only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison but none prevailed.”  


“Man, what a load of bull! You're seriously telling me none of these guys knew how to stop, drop, and roll?”  


“Let me finish!  As I was saying, she waited in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her destined knight in shining armor and true love's first kiss –”  


“Sorry, dude, but I just can’t listen to this anymore,” Lance interrupted the imaginary narrator voice in his head, standing from the table and stretching.  “That stuff’s just never gonna happen, you know?  We’ve already got all those dragons and stuff under control according to Lord Pidgequaad!”    
With that, he slammed the book shut and sauntered out into the bright morning sunlight.  A yawn escaped him as he began his morning routine, complete with a mask made of mud right from his very own swamp.  


Although there weren’t very many alteans left after the war on their people, Lance lived a simple, normal...okay, solitary life.  Lance lived alone on a swamp that nobody else liked to go near, save for the occasional galra teenagers (they were easily scared off with just a few signs around the place reading “DEADLY OGRE, BEWARE!”); he even had a small patch of vegetables that he grew his own food in, which he was very proud of.  


After a long day of weeding, watering, tilling soil and generally lazing about in the beautiful weather, Lance contentedly sat down to a carrot-zucchini casserole dinner for one.  It was a new recipe that he had read about in the culinary magazine he subscribed to and he was extremely excited to try it but, before he could even lift his fork all the way to his mouth, there was an incessant pounding on the door.  


“Who the heck could that be?” Lance wondered aloud as he got up from the table, tragically abandoning the steaming culinary masterpiece sitting there.  Upon opening it, he was met with the sight of a tall, buff man standing on his stoop.  His dark hair was held back with a rolled up bandana and he wore a thick belt with an assortment of tools, the majority of which Lance couldn’t identify, hanging from it.  


“Uh, good evening-afternoon – is it evening or afternoon?  I don’t really know.  Uh –” the man began, but Lance cut him off, eager to get back to his dinner.  


“No offense, but I don’t really want to buy anything,” he stated as politely as he could despite his annoyance at having somebody trespass on his property and interrupt his meal.  


“Oh, no!  I’m not here to sell anything.  Actually, I was wondering if I could ask a favor since, you know, nobody ever really comes over here….” the big man trailed off, rubbing his hands together somewhat nervously.  
“What’re you here for, then?” Lance demanded, then realized his behavior.  “Sorry, dude – it’s just that I have this casserole getting cold and….yeah.”  He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned awkwardly, hoping to relieve the tense atmosphere he had just created.  God, he was awkward.  


“It’s all good, man, I totally get you!” the other replied, nodding and returning the grin, his almond shaped eyes warm and genuine.  “At first, I was kind of afraid you'd try to have me for dinner so -" he indicated the multiple signs visible near the swamp's edge - "So you know Lord Pidgequaad, right?  He’s been passing some legislations lately and I got kicked out of my house – a lot of people in my neighborhood did, actually.  They’re rounding up all the fairy tale creatures and shoving them into other people’s houses and stuff,” he explained.  


“Dude, that sucks!” Painful memories flashed at the forefront of Lance's thoughts; he pushed them away, burying them deep. "Somebody seriously needs to teach that guy a lesson about what's his and what's not."   
“You're tellin' me," Hunk agreed. "So yeah, I was wondering if I could maybe stay the night here until I can find somewhere to stay long term..?”  A few beats of silence followed the question.  
“I guess there’s enough casserole to go around.  As long as it’s just for tonight.  I hope you like zucchini!” Lance decided aloud without very much thought at all, if any.  This guy seemed trustworthy enough and his story checked out; Lance had heard of people losing their homes due to Lord Pidgequaad’s legislations controlling the magical population.  
“Thanks so much, oh my gosh–!” As the buff guy rejoiced, Lance found himself swept up into a bear hug and couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the way his feet left the ground. “You won’t regret this, I promise!  In the morning, I’ll even make waffles!”

        Lance woke the next morning to the smell of waffles and even more banging on his door.    
    “What the heck?” he asked nobody in particular, still half asleep.  “Who could that even be?”  
    “No idea,” replied a voice that Lance didn’t recognize at first.  He started, falling out of his armchair and onto the floor with a thud.  “You good, dude?” asked the guy from the night before, whose name turned out to be Hunk.    
   “Yeah, it’s just --” Lance got to his feet and rubbed his now sore rear end. “-- You’re already here, so who else is going to want to come in?”  
   “Maybe they smelled the waffles,” Hunk suggested.  “Which, by the way, happen to be pretty great if I do say so myself.”  
           “You really say so, huh?” Lance teased, earning a chuckle from Hunk, as he made his way to the door.  “Stay in the kitchen a sec – just in case.”  
Upon opening the door, however, Lance was utterly shocked and surprised to come face to face with….nobody.  
“Uh, hello?” Lance called, scanning the apparently empty swamp with growing apprehension.  Could it be a group of galras here to stomp on his rutabagas again?  Just thinking about the last time a group of those stupid galra teenagers had trashed his property simultaneously sent a chill down Lance’s spine and made his blood boil.  “Hello?  Hello??  Anybody there?”  Still no response.  “Ding dong ditch is lame and a dead joke, whoever you are!” he yelled and slammed the door shut with a huff.  
“Pretty extreme response, don’t you think?” remarked a voice from behind him.  Lance just shrugged and stretched his arms over his head.  
“Honestly, Hunk, you’d be surprised at how many people trespass over here, even with those scary signs I put up,” the altean replied, rolling his neck and feeling a satisfying pop in his joints.  
“Hunk?  Who’s Hunk?  One ‘a you fellas named hunk and didn’t tell me, aye?” came the voice’s immediate reply.  At the very same time, Hunk poked his head into the room, a confused tone in his voice.  
“You okay, Lance?  I didn’t say anyth- AHH!”  A high pitched scream tore itself from the big man’s mouth.  That, coupled with the unmistakable bang of a waffle iron colliding with the side of the armchair and then the floor, caused Lace to whip around and scream himself.  
There, scrambling around in a confused and panicked manner, were three white mice standing upright on their two back legs, wearing round sunglasses, and carrying canes.  
“What the heck is going on?!” Lance shrieked, searching for something to throw at them as well while Hunk hid behind the doorway, brandishing a spatula.  
“Stop, stop all this!” one of the mice shouted over the fray.  It took a few whacks of his cane, but he got the other two mice to calm down before continuing.  “Alright, so listen.  Pidgequaad kicked us out of our flat, yeah?  We figured we would crash here for the foreseeable future – which is probably gonna be forever, the way things’re looking for us,” he explained.  
“They can talk?!” Hunk shrieked.  
“No way!” Lance rejected the idea immediately.  Hunk was good company and wasn’t staying long, which was fine by Lance, but adding three freakish mice to the mix was way too far out of his comfort zone.  “I’m sorry guys, but you can’t ‘crash’ here.”  
“That’s not fair, is it?” another one of the mice pouted.  
“They can talk!” Hunk lamented, looking up to the heavens with a horrified expression as if to say, ‘God, how could you do this to me?’  
“It’s not,” the third agreed.  “Not fair at all.  But what can ya do?  The guy hates the disabled.”  
“Poor unfortunate souls,” added the mouse who spoke first, nodding despite the fact that he was faced away from his friend.  
“You guys!” Lance cut in.  “It’s not that.  It’s just that Hunk’s already staying here and I only have enough veggies for so many people and –” Bent over so that he could see the mice more seriously and hands on his hips like a mother scolding her children, he was cut off by more banging on the door.  
“Who invited the party over?” Hunk wondered for everybody else in the room.  Since Lance had currently returned to arguing (fruitlessly) with the mice, he took the liberty of going over to the door and opening it, spatula still in hand.  As soon as the door swung open, all hell broke loose.  
Hunk was immediately knocked down onto his back and had to roll out of the way in order to avoid being trampled by seven pairs of little feet.  Looking up in surprise, he watched an entourage of dwarves, all with comically styled beards and brightly colored clothing, heave an enormous glass coffin onto the kitchen table.  Plates and glasses were sent crashing to the floor, silverware clattering and waffles splatting after them.  
“My waffles!” Hunk cried out, scrambling to his feet to put a stop to this atrocity.  “Guys, stop that – c’mon, not my waffles and not on the table!”  
“Whaat?” one of the dwarves with a snowy white beard demanded and crossed his arms over his chest.  “The bed’s taken so we got nowhere else to put ‘er.”  This got Lance’s attention almost immediately.  
“What d’you mean, ’the bed’s taken’?” he inquired as he pulled aside the curtain that separated his bedroom from the rest of the house only to find a humanoid wolf in an ugly floral nightgown laying between his sheets.  Naturally, Lance screamed and jumped into Lance’s arms.  A moment later, feeling slightly embarrassed at his outburst, Lance got back to his feet and cleared his throat, asking, “Who are you and what’re you doing in my bed?  And is that my abuela’s nightgown?”  
“Uhh, no….” the wolf replied and adjusted one of the pillows so as to position it between his back and the headboard.  “Got any good magazines?  How about Howl Weekly?  I’ve got to know if the alpha’s new mate’s had her litter or not yet.”  Lance ignored him.  
“Get outta here and take that off, you jerk!  That was my abuela’s!” he ordered, flustered by the current situation.  With Hunk’s assistance, the fairytale creatures were chased out of the house in a matter of about half an hour, but the true horror awaited – or, rather, was camped – outside.  
Magical creatures of every shape, size and type imaginable had filled up the entirety of Lance’s swamp, the crowd stretching as far as the eye could see.  
“Wha–?” was all that Lance could utter.  Both he and Hunk stood on the stoop of the house, jaws hanging wide open at the sight.  A fairy passing by with a basket of laundry paused to ease their mouths shut for them, trilling something at them along the lines of catching flies.  Lance quickly shut and locked the door behind him, shoving the key in his pocket and hoping that no creatures would find their way into his house again.  
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Hunk asked after a beat of silence between the two.  
“Probably but maybe not.  What’re you thinking?” Lance questioned in return before spotting a group of what looked to be little pixies and humanoid animal children stomping around in his vegetable garden.  He lunged forward, shouting, “STAY AWAY FROM MY RUTEBEGAS!”  Thankfully, Hunk was quick to grab him by the arms and hold the raging altean back.  
“Okay, okay, so it’s looking pretty bad right now,” he started.  
“Heck yeah it is!  Look at what they’re doing to my freaking cabbages!” Lance raged.  
“Right, so maybe we should call a meeting or something, right?” Hunk suggested, nodding at Lance.  It was obvious that he was prompting him to agree, so Lance begrudgingly nodded back and Hunk released him.  “Okay, so we just have to get their attention.”  
Lance grinned, taking Hunk’s spatula and a frying pan from a passing elf, who shot him a sour look and reached to snatch it back, only for Lance to hold the pan up above his head.  It took a minute but soon enough, after banging on the pan and shouting incessantly, Lance and Hunk had all eyes in the swamp on them.  
“Okay, so attention, please, everybody….” Hunk began, only for Lance to cut him off.  
“What are you guys doing in my swamp?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Thank you for reading!  
> I was planning on writing further into this story and turn it into a bit of a Klance thingy (since Lance is playing the part of Shrek, Keith would, of course, take on the role of Fiona in later chapters) to supplement the Free! fic that I'm currently working on in case I can't update that one often enough; there is a lot of planning and revising involved in that one, so it takes me a lot longer to put out chapters for it.
> 
> If you would like to see this meme-ish mess continued, please leave a comment below telling me so.  
> Have a nice day! <33


End file.
